


Pictures of You

by Chicken_Broccoli_2013



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: 31 Days Of Halloween, F/M, Rape, Shameless Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-15
Updated: 2020-10-15
Packaged: 2021-03-09 05:47:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,546
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27019801
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chicken_Broccoli_2013/pseuds/Chicken_Broccoli_2013
Summary: WARNING! This story contains graphic noncon. I do not condone real life rape/noncon in any way, shape, or form. This is a fantasy and should be treated as such.Look, folks. Jonathan is a creeper and always has been. In honor of Halloween, here he is at his very creepiest.
Relationships: Jonathan Byers/Reader
Comments: 2
Kudos: 20





	Pictures of You

You had always liked Jonathan Byers. Ever since you met in the fourth grade, he had been your friend. You did everything together—homework, gaming, family dinners. Everything. As you grew older you started to LIKE like him. You were frightened by this, worried that if your feelings were revealed it would ruin your friendship. So for the past few years you’d kept things quiet. You tried dating other guys but none of them were what you were looking for. For the sake of your friendship, you’d resigned yourself to not being satisfied at this point.  
But you still relished every moment you got to spend with him. So when he invited you into the darkroom with him you happily agreed. You watch as he dips each photo, handing them to you to hang up to dry. He’d always been an avid photographer and in your eyes, his pictures have only been getting better. “These are really beautiful, Jon,” you whisper, hushed by the pitch black of the room. Even in the darkness you can tell he’s blushing.  
“Thanks, Y/N…” He shrugs bashfully. “They’re nothing, really. You just have to find the right lighting, the right angles…I could show you sometime.”  
“I’d like that.” You try to ignore the way your heart skips a beat at his words, instead concentrating on the latest photo he’s handed you. It’s a picture of his little brother, all dressed up in a wizard costume complete with a staff and hat. He looks so happy, you can’t help but smile. “Is this one for Halloween?”  
Jonathan glances at the photo and laughs. “Oh, no. He wears that when he plays Dungeons and Dragons with his friends. He’s such a nerd.” He says the word lovingly.  
You raise an eyebrow. “If he’s a nerd, what does that make you?”  
You just know he’s blushing even harder now. “I…I don’t know. A freak, maybe.”  
“I’m just messing with you, Jon.” You nudge him playfully and his lips turn up again. “So…what are you doing this weekend?”  
“For Halloween? I dunno.” He risks a glance at you but refuses to meet your eyes. “You could come over if you want…my mom has to work and my brother will be out Trick-or-Treating.”  
Your heart leaps into your throat. Alone? With him? At his house? “S-sure, I’d love to.” You elbow him to cover up your own embarrassment. “I’ll dress up real fancy for you.”  
He laughs. “Whatever, Y/N. I’ll see you then.”  
“See you.”  
************************************  
You’re just in time to catch Ms. Byers as she leaves for the night. “Hi, Y/N!” She beams, wrapping you in a hug. “It’s so nice to see you. How have you been?”  
You can’t resist smiling back at her. She’s like a second mother to you. “I’ve been great, Ms. Byers.”  
“And you look so pretty!” She holds you at arm’s length to admire your outfit. “What are you supposed to be, a witch?”  
“A mage,” you correct, showing her your dollar-store wand. “It’s a…modern interpretation. I thought Will would like it.”  
She clasps her hands together, delighted. “He’ll love it. You’ll have to show him when he gets back home.” There’s a pause, and she looks at you knowingly. “Jonathan is inside. I’ll see you later, Y/N.”  
You hurry into the house, ducking into the bathroom to check yourself in the mirror. Your hair falls in waves around your bare shoulders. You wear a tiny black witch hat on a headband, and it matches your short black skirt. You look down at your sparkling purple flats, suddenly hoping that Jonathan doesn’t think you look slutty.  
“Jon?” You call to cover up your own nervousness. No answer, but you’ve been to the house more than enough times to know your way to his room. You knock gently on the door. “J? It’s Y/N…”  
When he still doesn’t answer, you open the door gingerly. You’d been in this room plenty of times as a kid, but not in the last few years. It’s meticulously clean, the bed neatly made and the curtains drawn. The only messy part of the room is his desk, scattered with photographs of all sizes. You flip one of them over, curious. It’s of his little family, holding carved pumpkins that match their grins. It must’ve been last year, you think: Will has shot up like a rocket. You put it down to exchange it for another one. This one is of two beautiful girls. You know one of them as Nancy Wheeler but you’re not sure about the other one.  
You continue looking through photographs, admiring their beauty but seeing nothing that really piques your interest. Then you find one near the bottom that stops you cold. It’s of another girl, but this one isn’t posed—it looks like it was taken outside of a window. The girl inside has her back to the camera. She’s undressing. Your stomach drops. Why would Jonathan have a picture like this? Who is she? You feel an unnatural twinge of jealousy until you recognize the curtains framing the shot. You only know of one person who has curtains with such a garish, 70’s-style floral print. It’s you. You turn over the photograph next to this disturbing shot and come face to face with yourself. It’s another candid one, this one taken outside of school. You’re reading a book. It seems innocent enough, but what about the other one?  
You jump right out of your skin as the door opens. “Jesus, Y/N!” Jonathan looks just as astonished as you feel. “What are you doing in my room?”  
“Uh, you told me to come over around five…”  
He runs a hand through his hair, jaw clenched. “Yeah…guess I did…”  
“Where were you?”  
“Developing photos in the basement.” He holds them up for you to see—then suddenly pulls them back toward his chest. “Just…just boring ones. Nothing you’d wanna see.”  
“Bullshit.” He looks up at you, startled. Wordlessly, you hold up the picture of you undressing. His mouth drops open for a second.  
“Y/N, I can explain that…”  
“Can you? I’d love to hear it.”  
He runs a hand through his hair again, almost dropping the pictures he has in his arms. “Look, I…I really like you, okay? I have for years. You’re just so…” He pauses, giving you a once-over.  
So what? You think. But there are more pressing matters at hand. “And you just thought taking a picture like this, without my knowledge, was okay? Are you…stalking me?”  
“What? No, I’m not stalking you. I’m not crazy, Y/N. I was just out in the woods one day…it was a little after Will had disappeared, I was looking for him…and I saw you. And I just couldn’t help myself. You were just…” He reaches up to tuck your hair behind your ear, but you smack his hand away.  
“I wanna see those photos you just developed.”  
“Y/N…”  
You practically tear them from his hands. They’re all of you. You at the library, you in your pajamas…you taking a shower. You feel your insides twisting into a fantastic pretzel shape. “Jon, what the fuck?”  
“I know you like me too.” His tone changes suddenly, throwing you for yet another loop. “I’ve seen the way you look at me, Y/N. And all these photos…these were private, just for me. No on else was going to see them.”  
You stare at him for a moment. “That doesn’t make any of this okay, J! I…I have to go. I need some time to think.” He slams the door shut before you can even take a step. “Let me go, Jon.”  
“Y/N…can we just talk about this? Sit down, have a talk?”  
“No!” You feel tears prick your eyes. You’re so overwhelmed… “I just wanna go home.”  
Jonathan sighs like a tired parent, taking your arm and guiding you toward the bed. You don’t resist, knowing it won’t do you much good at this exact moment. You both sit down and he runs a hand tenderly along your spine. “You like me too, don’t you, Y/N?”  
You refuse to look at him. “I did.”  
“Well, this is great then.” He laughs but it’s clearly forced. “We both like each other, so—”  
“What you did was wrong,” you interrupt. “I want all of those pictures burned.”  
“What? I’m not gonna burn them.” He brushes his thumb down your cheek, catching a stray tear as it falls. “They’re precious to me. Just like you.”  
You can tell he’s being sincere. How does he not realize how wrong all of this is? “C-can I go now?”  
“No, wait a minute.” He pulls you closer and you immediately stiffen. “Knowing you like me back…oh Y/N….” Without warning he kisses you full on the lips. You can’t help but pay attention to how it feels—you had wanted this for such a long time. His lips are soft, almost like you imagine a child’s would be. One hand is still on your back while the other tangles itself in your hair. You’re so distracted you almost forget to push him away. Almost.  
“I-I don’t like you anymore!”  
He smiles gently. “I bet I could make you like me again.”  
You take that as your moment to leap off the bed, making a mad dash for the door. Jonathan tackles you, wrapping his arms around your waist. “No!” You scream as loud as you can, hoping a neighbor or someone will hear you. He flips you over so you’re on your back, putting a hand over your mouth.  
“Shhhh, Y/N, it’s okay…I’m not gonna hurt you. Don’t scream, okay? Be good and quiet for me?” You squirm under him but God, is he strong…how is he so strong? He reaches into a drawer in his desk, pulling out a long length of fabric. A tie. He’s so gentle as he ties it around your head, even as you kick and try to scream through the gag. You know what he’s planning and you do not want to be here for it. “Now.” He kisses your forehead. “You want this too, don’t you, Y/N?”  
You shake your head vehemently, struggling as he pins your arms down. “I know you do.” He brushes his nose against yours. “My Y/N. I’m doing all this cause I love you, okay?” While one hand keeps your arms pinned above your head (how is he so strong?) the other snakes beneath your skirt. You kick as well as you can, trying to throw him off. He cups you carefully, rubbing your clit with a feather light touch. You try not to react but it’s impossible. In spite of your brain’s best efforts, you’re wet. Jonathan’s eyes light up. “You’re going to enjoy this, sweetheart. I promise.”  
He continues working on your clit, eventually moving your panties aside. You gasp as he puts two fingers inside you. You don’t know how he’s so good at what he’s doing—he’s too shy to have tried this with anyone else. And you hate it, you tell yourself. You hate it. You hate him. It doesn’t matter how he’s spreading you wide and making your hips buck. He looks you in the eye and you’re terrified of what you see there—pitch darkness. “You like this, baby?” You scream “fuck you” around the gag and he actually looks hurt. He removes his fingers, bringing them to his mouth. You squeeze your eyes shut, not wanting to see him lick your essence off. “If I let your wrists go, will you be good? I can do so much more for you that way.” He grabs your chin, squeezing uncharacteristically hard, forcing you to look at him. “I know you can be good for me. I don’t wanna have to hurt you. Okay?” Your breaths are shallow and fast, your eyes wider than saucers. He releases you and you immediately start hitting and scratching at whatever parts of him you can reach. He sighs like a teacher who’s had to discipline a student one too many times.  
Jonathan catches your wrist in his hand, twisting it into an unnatural position that makes you gasp. “I’ll break it.” His tone is flat, emotionless. “Do you want me to do that?” A tiny “no” leaves your lips. “Then put your hands by your head and keep them there.” He looks at you almost sadly, brushing your hair out of your face. “I don’t know why you’re fighting me. We’ve both wanted this for so long.”  
You want to scream to the moon and tell him exactly why, but you know it wouldn’t do any good. The man is goddamn CRAZY, you’re sure of that. All you can think to do now is ride this out and hope he doesn’t kill you when it’s over.  
You shudder as you hear him unzip his jeans. He pulls out his cock gingerly, as if even he isn’t 100% sure what to do with it. He gives you a reassuring smile, pulling your skirt and panties down to your knees. You don’t bother trying to stop the tears as they flow freely down your cheeks, wetting your hair. He kisses your nose tenderly. “Don’t worry, I have condoms.” You’re surprised at how much relief that brings you. At least, you think as you watch him roll one on, you won’t have to worry about carrying his baby after this. Although he’d probably like that…you shiver.  
Sparks fly as he pushes in. You can feel every inch of him inside you, and it feels…good? No, you chide yourself immediately. Fuck him. You’re not going to cum from this. Your cervix, however, disagrees. As he thrusts in and out (gently, giving you time to catch your breath), you see blackness at the corners of your eyes. You’re going to pass out, you think, and what a relief that would be… But you don’t pass out. You feel every aching minute, every ounce of pain and pleasure, until finally you know you’re close. Jonathan notices this too, damn him. “You’re almost there, aren’t you sweetie? I am too. God, just thinking about you brings me to the edge. You’re just so—” He cuts off as he explodes inside you. Thank the good lord for condoms. His hand drops to your clit, touching and flicking till you can’t stand it anymore. With a whine so piteous it’s embarrassing, you come. Jonathan talks you through it, whispering sweet nothings in your ear and stroking your hair.  
When you come down from your high, you’re still sobbing. You realize you never stopped. Jonathan gently removes the gag, massaging the corners of your mouth. “You did so good for me, sweetness. God, I love you. You’re so…”  
“Let me go,” you whisper, and he acts like this is a new thing.  
“Oh yeah, of course, baby.” He lets you stand and redress. “Oh, one more thing.” You turn to him, recoiling as a flash nearly blinds you. He’s taken another picture. “Happy Halloween, Y/N. I’ll see you soon.”


End file.
